


Shibari

by orphan_account



Series: Blame The Discord [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anyways, But if she does, F/F, HOPE SHE'S PROUD, I hope my mom doesn't find this, I wrote this because my friend asked me to and it took forever bc I kept laughing, PWP, Rule 63, She chose poetic sexy porn, Shibari, have fun sinning, so that's what I did, ummmm, yeahhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rule 63 Iwaoi Shibari.... Yes it's pornBUT I HAVE NO SHAMESO¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	Shibari

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allmyfriendsareheathens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmyfriendsareheathens/gifts).



> I laughed so much writing this you have no idea   
> I had the smut under "PORN BELOWWWWW HErES THE PORn thE PORNY PORN THAT PORNNNNNNS S" in Google Docs

“Tooru,” Hajime’s sigh is lost to the night, and Tooru’s hum to the soft skin of her waist, “I want to,” she hesitates, “do the thing we talked about.”

Tooru’s eyes gleam in the moonlight through her eyelashes as they flash up to meet Hajime’s, and Hajime is pinned to the bed by that gaze that she could easily give her forever to, before a grin, pointed and predatory, draws itself across Tooru’s expression.

 

There’s something beautiful about the way Tooru’s hands work the length of rope, some sort of artistry in her practiced ease that must stem from hours of practice in her room late after her parents have gone to bed, and even here in their apartment when Hajime isn’t home. 

Every skim of her hands across Hajime’s skin sends sparks of heat spiraling through her body, but Tooru doesn’t pay attention to the way she arches against the restraint, the beautiful knots looped around her limbs and settled against her tan skin straining.

Hajime’s eyes flutter shut out of equal parts excitement and tension as Tooru focuses her intense gaze on weaving rope around Hajime, connects to the ceiling where they have hooks that usually support an inside suspended chair.

Tonight they’ll support her.

“Done,” Tooru steps back, “well, almost. Lift your legs for me, darling?”

Hajime obeys, and Tooru binds her thighs and calves together, in a spread position. 

Tooru takes a moment to step back and the focus in her eyes is intense enough for Hajime to try and buckle her hips towards her, against the breeze brushing the exposed skin between her legs. 

Only to swallow hard when she can’t.

Tooru’s leer is equal parts affection and lust when she procures the silk sleeping mask that she’s used maybe once and steps behind Hajime to slip it over her head.

Everything instantly becomes more intense without her vision, the cool breeze flowing around the room chilling her sensitive skin, the coarse tension in the rope holding her without issue, and most of all Tooru’s stare burning against her back, her puffs of breath on Hajime’s neck coming hot and faster when Hajime shivers at the contrast between them and the cool air.

“Ready?” Tooru asks, voice deep, and Hajime’s voice cracks on her hasty affirmative.

“If you’re sure,” Tooru’s purr flows from the darkness behind her, and Hajime’s eyelashes flutter against the unforgiving satin of the sleeping mask, straining to see the way Tooru’s chocolate eyes must be flashing in the waning moonlight.

A soft flicking sound is all the warning Hajime gets before a light sting fizzles across her lower back, prying a light gasp from her lips. 

The glare she attempts to cast back at Tooru obviously doesn’t reach her, but the soft sound of Tooru’s laughter doesn’t reach her ears either. Instead, there’s a thoughtful hum, and Hajime would give anything to see Tooru’s expression right now, just a glimpse of what she’s thinking.

Instead she’s left with an acute awareness of the way none of her touches a solid surface, the fleeting kiss of rope around her shoulders becoming more of a gentle bite under her thighs.

Not that she can see the space around her. She can’t even see a faint glimmer around the mask, and Hajime knows that Tooru had dimmed the lights. The idea of the shadows playing across the planes of Tooru’s muscled curves has Hajime’s arms straining against the gossamer ropes binding them with a fragile strength.

She’s completely at Tooru’s mercy.

Yes, she had known it would be that way, wanted it. 

Knowing and experiencing are two different things.

Blindfolded, Hajime has only her ears to allow her slight hints of what Tooru’s doing. Not even that. Only location.

And then Tooru speaks from in front of her, and Hajime jerks in slight surprise. They had fluffy carpet floors. Hajime won’t be able to hear her.

 A thrill runs through her at the realization that everything is up to Tooru. She trusts Tooru with her life, of course.

That only adds to the excitement churning to heat low in her gut.

Tooru begins with fleeting touches, coming from any direction with no set pattern.

Hajime doesn’t know how much time passes like this, loses herself in the increasing need, the building want that reaches an inferno peak with every small touch, each pause driving her crazy with anticipation for the next.

Her hip, her thigh, her ribs, a finger trickling it’s way down her spine- close and closer but not  _ enough _ . 

Tooru lets it go on like this, until Hajime is shaking, straining with her anticipation, her heat just growing in contrast with the breeze that now feels like wind accosting it.

And then there’s too much  _ too much not enough not much holy-  _ centered around the wet warmth tugging mercilessly at her left nipple, and then cool slight fingers gently teasing at the other as Tooru shifts from sucking to gently licking and back again with no warning, switching randomly and leaving the other hard and chilled damp as the air laps at it, cold and merciless in the face of Hajime’s overwhelming desire growing with each second, with each brush lower of Tooru’s hands, with each whimper of desperation that leaves her lips.

And then, as suddenly as the sensations had started, they stop. 

“ _ Tooru.”  _ Hajime whines, the cloth around her eyes dampening with Hajime’s only thought.

Tooru responds with a hitched gasp, and then there’s feeling close to where Hajime needs it most, but only the barest of warm presses of air against her inner thigh. 

“ _ Tooru.”  _ Hajime’s breath falters on the moan when Tooru finally surges forwards, her manicured nails barely scratching Hajime’s thighs, a sensation easily lost in the flood that is Tooru’s mouth against Hajime’s heat, her tongue pressing and swiping skillfully. 

And Hajime’s gone. Her only thought perhaps making it out of her mouth, a broken chant of “ _ TooruTooruSweetheartTooruLove-”  _ making Tooru smile against her, coaxing her through her orgasm.

Later, long after the red marks on Hajime fade, they will have to remove matching rings from eager hands to repeat the experience.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment?


End file.
